Wednesday, September 29, 2010


You know how when you're a kid, you always dream of what it would be like to be able to chat with someone famous? Someone you admire, whether it be a film star, or a musician or whomever?

I remember when I was little, I used to get crushes on celebrities, as I'm sure many other people did/do. When I was 7 years old, I had the biggest crush on Christian Slater. I used to fantasize that he'd show up at my house, hiding in a big box as a birthday present... then he'd jump out and surprise me, and take me for a ride in his limo!

As I grew into a teenager, I'd day dream about making out with whomever I had a crush on at the time. And as I got older still, I used to dream about just hanging out backstage with a famous musician that I really liked and just talking, getting to know them. Sure, sometimes I'd think about what it would be like to make out with them, but I didn't want to be just another groupie. I didn't want to have meaningless flings with famous people. I wanted to get to know them as real people. Sometimes I'd even fantasize that we'd have a real relationship... though those ones tended to go up in smoke almost as soon as I'd thought about them because hey, what are the chances of me ever actually dating Chad Kroeger or Adam Gontier? :P

But to me, I've always thought it would be amazing to be able to get to know these people for who they are. Find out what makes them tick, why they write the way they do, where they get their inspiration from. I grew up realizing that it's who you are that defines what you do and how you do it. And that's important to me.

Today, I actually got the chance to speak with someone I greatly admire. He's a guitar player/singer/songwriter. He's also pretty famous. To my shame, I only heard of him about a month ago when we went to see him play at The Schwaben Club. Since then, I've added him to facebook and watched all his YouTube videos; I am both fascinated with his skill and in awe of what he's accomplished. I figured he'd be like most of the other celebrities who have facebook profiles, in that he'd update his page but wouldn't really talk to anyone. I was wrong.

I commented on his wall a few weeks ago, and to my astonishment, he actually commented back the same day! That made me feel pretty special. When I saw him online today, I decided to message him just to tell him that I thought he was awesome. Because he is. And I wasn't expecting a response.

Instead, I was quite pleasantly surprised that he not only responded, but ended up having an entire conversation with me. Never have I stopped believing that famous people are human like the rest of us, and it was refreshing to be able to talk with someone who actually acts like he is still one. I've heard horror stories of celebrities who think they're too good to talk to fans, who act high and aloof or ignore people altogether. Phil was not only kind, he was funny, fun to talk to, and amazingly down to earth. This is the way stars should all be. People get famous because the public likes what they do. Some celebrities fail to remember that they are where they are because of the little people.

Today has reaffirmed my faith in humanity. It doesn't take much to offer a compliment; as Phil told me, you never know how badly someone may need to hear it. Even if they're famous. Because famous people are still people too.

Thanks again for the chat today Phil. It meant a lot to me, and I look forward to more in the future (and hopefully working together!).

*Check out Phil's stuff, if you get a chance:

Monday, September 27, 2010

It's the little things...

Most pregnant women know, it's hard to feel sexy about yourself when you're gaining weight and feeling icky all the time.. right? Ok, maybe it's just me, I dunno.

Anyways, last week I decided to do a complete overhaul of my look again. I have a maternity shoot coming up this week, and I wanted to look as awesome as possible for it. So I got my hair cut downtown at Voila (the local hair school) and then coloured it at home. I'm now sporting a rockin' mohawk and raspberry-coloured hair! It looks superb.

I also spotted myself a super sweet pair of plugs from BMA Modified ( on their ebay shop ( I wasn't sure if they'd be able to get here in time for the shoot, but I asked Miranda the owner if there was a way to get them here ASAP. She offered me a free shipping upgrade to Priority because I've been a loyal customer with them for the last year now. And do you know what? That totally made my day!

I know, most people don't understand my fascination with plugs/tunnels/whatever you wanna call them. But BMA has such nice things and they're so well priced, I've ordered so many from them over the last year as I've been slowly stretching. And to be honest, nothing lifts my mood quite like getting new jewelry. It's not quite as big of a change as getting a super short hair cut and a really drastic colour... but sometimes it really is the little things that help make you feel special. And when someone is as nice as Miranda and offers me a free shipping upgrade to try to get my plugs here in time for my maternity shoot? Well, that almost gets the hormone-tears flowing. :)

Anyone looking for super cool organic plugs should definitely check out BMA. Their customer service is awesome, their merch is top quality, and their prices are so low... you can get like 5 pairs for the same price you'd pay for one pair at a local body mod shop! So get your shop on and adorn those ears. :)

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

My hubby is a compulsive pack-rat. Seriously, he needs to go on that show "Hoarders" or whatever it's called. He has boxes upon boxes (upon drawers and cupboards) full of junk that has no particular use or meaning whatsoever. Well, to me, anyways.

Therein lies the problem. Since it's all his junk, I can't really do much with it, because I don't want to get in trouble for throwing out something that he might want to keep. Which, in all honesty, is probably everything.

But we have no space for all of Marshall's things! Granted, we'll have more room once our roommate moves out, but in the meantime, where are we going to store all the things that we'll be getting at our baby shower in 2 weeks?!

I've managed to pack away all my pre-pregnancy clothes (and some clothes for Marshall that won't fit him until he's about a year old) and clean out space in my dresser so that I have 2 drawers for newborn clothing. That's about as much as I can do, since all the rest of the closets are full of DH's accumulated junk. He managed to clean out one huge tote that was full of VHS tapes, which is what I used to pack away my clothing. But now it's sitting on top of the dog's cage, because he never managed to put it away again.

Moving as much as I've done over the last several years (I was like a gypsy!), I learned how to live light. Everything I owned fit into 2 suitcases and 2 boxes. Sure, there are some things I wish I'd kept, but in the grand scheme of things, I've always had what I needed when I needed it. DH moved from a townhouse into a 2 bedroom apartment, and rather than go through and get rid of things he didn't need, just shoved everything into closets.

Now that I seem to be in my "nesting phase", I'm itching to go through and clean everything top to bottom! I've always been a neat and tidy person, but the first half of my pregnancy left me so drained and sick all the time, I didn't bother much with tidying. Now that I want to tidy, I've cleaned everything I can, and still want to do more!

*Edit: 4 days now till the shower and we still haven't gone through the closets. Oh well, perhaps we will after the shower, when we'll be forced to in order to store things. :P
I am one of the whiniest pregnant women on the planet. At least, according to DH I am. Which leads me to wonder, how many pregnant women has he known other than me? Scratch that, how many women has he knocked up and lived with, other than me?

I know other mommies-to-be will moan and complain to each other about the trails and tribulations of pregnancy. That's because we understand each other. Our hubbies just roll their eyes, either say nothing or say completely the wrong thing, and go about their lives.

The other night, DH was trying to make up a grocery list and asked me if having chicken for dinner twice this week would be ok. I said sure, chicken's fine.

Apparently, that was not said with the amount of enthusiasm he was expecting. He got all huffy and started complaining that I don't give him enough input, and asking why do I have to be so difficult.

This confused me, as all I'd said was that chicken was fine with me. I'm sorry, but I simply cannot muster up any enthusiasm over the idea of eating the same food we've been eating for months. In fact, for the most part, I can't muster up much enthusiasm over the idea of eating at all! This is what confuses him. I tried to explain that eating 70 times a day leaves me feeling fat, bloated, and exhausted. I hate having to eat all the time, I hate not having enough variety, and I'm just sick of it full-stop. Which leads him to the conclusion, yet again, that I am the whiniest pregnant person in the history of EVER.

I'd love it so much if men could get pregnant, and see how they feel about it. Let's see how they like having to eat 70 times a day (they'd probably love it). Let's see how much they like not being able to get to sleep for hours on end, and then when they do, only get to sleep for about half an hour and then have to get up and pee again. Or how about how much they'll just love having a constantly aching back that never feels better, a growing stomach that hurts and a baby kicking their guts to pieces. Perhaps they'll love the swollen fingers and feet, the lack of clothing options, the lack of energy or ambition to do anything.

... or maybe I really am just the whiniest pregnant person on the planet.


So as I sit here, eating my extra-fatty yogurt (seriously, this stuff is 47% of my daily saturated and trans fat intake!), I ponder my growing belly that is peeking out from below my shirt. And I ponder the fact that my belly is peeking out from below my shirt.

Funny thing is, I bought this tank top not too long ago, and it was extra long and stretchy. I bought it in a large. I bought 4 of them in the same style, in the same size, because none of my other shirts fit anymore. And they were gloriously comfy and fit perfectly!

...that is, until I let a certain someone go do laundry without me.

You see, he remembered not to put my undies in the dryer. But he forgot that my tank tops couldn't go in the dryer either. So now, they're tiny. And by tiny, I mean minuscule. If I stand up, my shirt now soars to the middle of my growing belly and I look like someone you'd see on People Of Walmart! In other words... not very classy.


So now my tank tops, that I got to wear all of once each, are now only to be worn around the house. Which leaves me very limited clothing options for going out. Pffft! Going out? When do I do that? Ah well, I guess now that the colder weather is here, I can always sport them under one of DH's hoodies and no one has to be witness to my bulging belly.

Lesson here? Either make sure I go with DH to do laundry, or remind him before he leaves not to put ANYTHING of mine in the dryer.